


swamp trompin

by orca_mandaeru



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Bayou, Gen, Kinda crack-y, M/M, New Orleans, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 15:10:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16956336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orca_mandaeru/pseuds/orca_mandaeru
Summary: jihoon gets stuck in the swamp, but it might turn out to be a good thing





	swamp trompin

jihoon is regretting this stupid decision already. the collar of his professional shirt is uncomfortably tight, the oppressing humidity all around making every part of him uncomfortably sweaty.

no one else on this godforsaken boat is doing much better, the smell of sweat hanging in the air. it's just as restrictive as concrete walls. he was hoping that...well, jihoon didn't know what he had been expecting.

that getting out in nature would set him free or some shit like that? he had flown down to new orleans from new york for a business deal at his boring accounting office job. he had planned to stay for a week or two to secure the deal and then hightail it out of this cesspool of heat, yet here he was. on a fucking swamp tour, of all things. he had been driving back to his shitty motel in his shitty rental car when he saw the billboard. joe's swamp tours or something equally inane. he was sure it was a momentary bout of insanity that made him yank the steering wheel and go down that side road.

the tour office was horrendously small and run-down, damp, moss-eaten wood probably made by the owners themselves making up the gift shop. there were around a dozen other passengers, all tourists except for one horribly greasy man of unidentifiable age wearing nothing but ripped jean shorts and sandals. jihoon looked supremely out of place in his suit. he had unthinkingly brought his briefcase along, and he caught the others casting questioning glances at it. the boat that's supposed to tour them through the swamp is just as questionable, looking absolutely homemade and certainly not sturdy enough to hold a dozen people. oh for fuck's sake the shirtless man was the tour guide.

the tour itself was nice enough, especially the big water bird-thingies. until the tour guide turned to them with a toothless grin and exclaimed "time to tour the bank!". it was not jihoon's imagination that the guy was staring directly at him. the creep. everyone obediently files out when the boat-raft thing bumps against the wet ground of shore. at least two people fall nearly into the water (jihoon included.)

admittedly, it was nice to see the cypresses up close, though the swamp stench was overwhelming here and the ground suspiciously unsteady and squelching. the tour guide brings them to this cute little dock a little ways into the swamp, and they all mill around ooh and aah-ing for a few minutes before they start to head back to the boat. jihoon lingers behind, crouching down to the moss-covered old wood boards and peering down at the murky waters. he sighs absently, eyes tracing the little group of minnows darting around.

there's an indescribable pit of emptiness growing in his stomach that's been settled there for what feels like forever. he'll finish this shitty swamp tour and return to his hellish job like the perfect employee he is. and he'll stay there for a few decades before he rots and dies in his own stew, probably.

it seems awfully quiet. jihoon shoots up from the ground. there's no more sound of pictures being taken or the tour guide guiding...which means that they’re probably far away by now. 

"oh shit," jihoon mutters, taking off down the trail they came down. he finally gets to the bank, and nothing. the boat is gone. they fucking left. the others had to have known he was there, right? on second thought...he had made a point to be the last in line always..he hadn't made eye contact with any of the smelly people except for...that fucking tour guide. he's actually going to kill that fucker when he gets out of this mess.

"calm down, lee jihoon. you can think of a way to get out of this," he mutters, breathing deeply. okay. he does not want to risk walking along the bank, who knows what kind of crocodiles or snakes and shit are lurking there. but the distance down the river to the tour station isn't that long, maybe ten or fifteen minutes. could he make some sort of raft? jihoon looks around for anything he can use. there is a bunch of spiky green plants with thick leaves... jihoon spends exactly one minute trying with all his might to pull up the plants, then attempts to break them off for 30 seconds. it's completely useless, does nothing except hurt jihoon's hands, which are soft, used to nothing but the surface of a keyboard.

okay, that didn't work... jihoon throws up his hands and plops down onto the ground. he shoots back up immediately, brushing off the now-damp seat of his pants. he takes off his suit jacket and lays it down onto the marshy ground, setting his briefcase on top of that and sitting on top of the lot, gazing mournfully out at the slow-moving water. sooner or later, someone has to come along, right?

he stays there, his dress shoes sinking into the greenish mud. if no boat comes, what's his plan? maybe he could chance a walk along the bank...but the underbrush is too thick to even get through. honestly, this'll teach him a lesson. no more impromptu decisions.

wait, what's that sound? jihoon stops and concentrates. the sound of a motor...oh, thank god, it sounds like a boat. jihoon gets up and picks up his wet jacket, preparing to wave it for attention. the boat slowly inches into view, a huge gleaming white thing with trim of pale blue and pink. jihoon can make out someone at the helm, but they're leaned back and unmoving.

"hey. hey!" jihoon shouts, jumping up and down and waving. "you in the boat! help me!" he yells. the person on the boat starts and falls out of their chair, standing up and peering out of the boat. jihoon jumps up and down some more.

thankfully, the boater starts to steer the big boat over to the shore where jihoon is. the boat drifts closer and closer and jihoon can make out that the piloter is a tallish man with broad shoulders and dark hair.

"Need some help?" the man calls out teasingly .

"Please, please help?" Jihoon pleads, dignity lost somewhere in the mud.

"Okay, okay," the man says, flinging a mess of rope over to the bank. Jihoon stares at it blankly and picks it up.

"Nevermind. Quick, come here and i'll pick you up," the man says. Jihoon gets as close to the water as possible, the tips of his black dress shoes with waves lapping over them. He reluctantly raises his arms, and the stranger reaches down, gives a great heave, and hauls Jihoon overboard in one sweep. They fall backwards together, jihoon falling with an off onto the stranger's chest. He hurriedly gets up and picks up his briefcase.

"thanks," he says, not meeting eye contact.

"no problem at all," the stranger says. "i'm seungcheol."

"jihoon," he responds, awkwardly hardshaking.

"how did you get there, anyway?" seungcheol says. "you're obviously not from around here." he really does stick out like a sore thumb, doesn't he?

seungcheol certainly looks local. he may be asian, but his deep tan, calloused hands and boat ownership hang over him like a shield of comfort.

"i, uh," jihoon starts. "was on a swamp tour and...got lost."

he's surprised to see seungcheol's jaw tighten. "it was billy bob joe, i bet. i always knew he would pull something like this."


End file.
